From Ashes
by Ziver69
Summary: Tag to Episode Forget Me Not. Exactly what was it that Grissom was doing "in her best interests"? And what happens when a family emergency forces Grissom to come home, face his wife and the reason he's running? Please be aware that this will be slightly OOC and involves some mentions of rape. GSR
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first attempt at writing GSR and I hope it will be successful. I'd like to say up front that this is a result of the latest episode, Forget Me Not and will include spoilers of some nature. Also, I'm not a Dr. nor am I a lawyer, merely a huge fan of GSR and writing fanfic, so with that said, I'm winging the medical and lawyer sections of this story. My greatest desire is to entertain with my writing and I hope no one will be put off by my lack of accurate knowledge. This is also unbetae'd, so any and all mistakes are mine. Does it go without saying that I own none of the characters, etc? I'd also like to say from the start that this will, at times, be OOC for the characters and will also contain, in later chapters some disturbing area's such as rape. I will put a warning out at the beginning of chapters with any disturbing materials, as it is not my wish to take anyone by surprise. This will also be rated M for chapters in the future so please, if this is not your cup of tea or you are under the age of 18, don't read the chapters with the warning. Incidentally, I would rate this chapter a high T to M...under 18 turn back now please. So without further ado, I give you __**From Ashes**__._

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It had taken months for everything to settle down. If you could really call it settling down. The lab still seemed to be in a state of suspended animation; no one willing to comment on the Grissoms' break-up. It was as if they all were staring at some horrific crime scene...looking at the bodies, seeing the obvious evidence of the foul play in blood and other viscous fluids right before their eyes and yet unable to acknowledge the devasting truth in their minds, or maybe it was their hearts that were so determined to deny what lie before them. No one more so then Sara, but denial was getting her nowhere.

The truth was that her husband, was she still supposed to think of him as that, since the divorce wasn't final, had uttered those dreaded words, "maybe we need to try things apart, Sara" almost six and a half months ago. Two weeks ago, four months after having been arrested for Taylor Wynard's murder, four months and one day after being cleared for his murder when Ronald Basderic was arrested for it as well as for framing Sara for it, not to mention his attempt to kill her himself, Sara had received a phone call from her attorney. Her husband had filed for divorce.

_"He gives you the house, Hank, and half your joint assets."_

_"Great. All I ever wanted from our marriage was him. Guess he didn't put that on the table, huh, somewhere between our dog and our savings?" Sara couldn't bring herself to look up from the fingernails she found so fascinating._

_George Randolph unlaced his fingers and slowly removed the wire rimmed glasses from his weathered face. Divorces were never pleasant. Even the amicable ones. In his 45 years as an attorney, it was his opinion that the amicable ones actually had the greatest potential to be the most painful. He'd seen far too many couples who still loved each other but just couldn't, for one reason or another, find a way to make it work. Sadly, this seemed to be another one of those cases._

_"Sara, I'm so very sorry. I truly wish there was something I could do."_

_Sara lifted sad, brown eyes to the man across the desk. George was old school, tweed jacket and bow tie. "How long, George?"_

_"Gilbert's attorney is still working out the details. I'd guess at least a week for that. Maybe another before it's written up. It will be sent to me, for my appraisel. Then, of course, you and I will go over it. As long as it meets with your approval and no re-negotiations are necessary, I'd say...a month before signatures are secured and the final decree filed with the courts." George absently swung his glasses back and forth, a habit he'd developed over the years._

_Taking a slow, calming breath, Sara stood up and extended her hand. "Thank you, George. Call me when you have...it."_

_The elder attorney gave her hand a soft squeeze. "I'll be in touch, Sara. Take care of yourself, and again, my deepest condolences."_

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Sara glanced out the glass wall of the break room, letting her gaze drift down the deserted hall. Sometimes when she allowed it, she'd close her eyes and listen to the memories. She could hear the clicking of Catherine's ever present heels as she and Grissom walked to his office, discussing a case. She could feel the slight bite of his door frame against her arm as she leaned on it to tell him good-night, hear Warrick's laugh...

She glanced back the other direction, taking a bite of her pimento and cheese sandwich, to find Greg and Nick walking in her direction. Two bottles of water and a large brown bag told her that she'd soon have companions on her lunch break. Sometimes, friends who knew her so well were both a blessing and a curse.

She was tired. It had been a long week of tough cases. Tired meant thoughts of Grissom punched through her well constructed wall of armor. After the Wynard case, Sara had sworn off drinking and sleeping pills, which left her with only sheer will to get through this. Most days she put up a good front, letting the others believe she was moving on...but days like this one, days when she was too tired to keep the thoughts of Grissom at bay, she knew she was fooling no one, especially Greg and Nick.

"Hey girl, what's the veggie special of the day." Nick teased.

Greg sniffed the air, looking like a blood hound on crack. "Pimento and cheese?"

Sara gave him a good natured slug on the arm. "You know what it looks like, cheater."

Rubbing his arm, Greg scowled. "Only because you _forced_ me to try it." he admonished.

"Forced you? If I hadn't _let_ you try it, I never would have been able to eat in peace. _Sara...Sara, come on. Just a bite. You want me to eat healthier, don't you_?" Sara whined, doing a pretty good imitation of her younger friend. Nick snorted and thumped his meaty fist against his chest, attempting to aid his freshly swallowed bite of ham and cheese down his throat.

"I am curious by nature." Greg defended.

"More like bottomless as a pit, man." Nick chuckled, having regained use of his respiratory system.

Sara had a feeling they were letting her off the hook, for now. But she was grateful for the reprieve and took it. They joked, keeping things light for the next twenty minutes, until the buzzing of Sara's cell brought their attention to the ringing device.

Years as a CSI meant full recognition of the number flashing across her screen, and her heart skipped wildly in her chest. Was her mother okay? Why was the hospital calling her? Nick and Greg exchanged worried looks at Sara's alarmed expression, but they remained silent as Sara answerd the call.

"Sara Sidle."

"Uh, I'm trying to get in touch with Mrs. Grissom. Sara Grissom?" came an unfamiliar, but obviously professional male voice.

It was like a punch directly to her stomach; Mrs. Grissom. Forcing herself to breathe, Sara answered, somewhat shakily. "Yes, this is Sara Grissom. I uh, use my maiden name at work. Who is this?"

"My apologies, Mrs. Grissom. This is Dr. Dershem over at Desert Palms. We have your mother-in-law, Betty Grissom. You're listed as her emergency contact. Is that correct?"

Sara's eyes darted to Nick's. "Yes, that's right. Is she alright?"

"Betty was brought in showing signs of a stroke. She is stable, Mrs. Grissom, but we could really use you over here. Is that possible?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll be right there. Do you have staff on board who can sign? Can you tell her I'm on my way?"

There was a slight pause before the docter responded, causing Sara to wonder if she'd dropped the call. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Grissom, we do have staff on call fluent in ASL, but...I'll explain in greater detail when you arrive, but Betty is experiencing vision loss as a result of the stroke. It's...difficult to communicate at this time and I believe this is adding to her stress. Please, come as quickly as you can. It's imperative that we help her stay calm right now. I believe your presence will assist us a great deal in this."

"I'll be right there. Has anyone contacted my...her son?" Sara stumbled over the words. It hurt to call Grissom her husband, the title once bringing so much joy, now felt like a knife to her heart.

"Not yet, Mrs. Grissom. Our top priority has been in stabilizing, running tests and trying to keep her calm."

"Fine." Sara rushed from her seat, motioning for Greg and Nick to follow. "That's fine. I'll take care of that. I'm on my way, Dr. Dershem. Please, try to find a way to let her know I'll be there soon."

Sara snapped her phone shut and made a beeline for the exit, Nick and Greg on her heels. "Greg, can you tell DB I've got a family emergency and I'm headed to Desert Palms. Betty had a stroke and she can't see."

Greg broke away, heading in the opposite direction toward their supervisor's office, calling over his shoulder that he'd take care of it and to call when she had any more news. Nick, picked up his pace and reached a hand out. Sara gave him a questioning look.

"I'm goin' with you, Sar. Keys." No sooner had her keys landed in his palm then Nick yelled out to a quickly disappearing Greg, "I'm goin' with her, Greggo!"

"Got it!" echoed down the hallway, reaching their ears just as Sara pushed through the exit.

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Sara and Nick rushed through the ER corridor toward the cubicle the front desk nurse had directed them to. Just as they reached the sliding glass door, a tall blonde exited. He looked up, startled as Sara and Nick came to a jolting halt.

"Betty Grissom?" Sara panted.

"Sara? Sara Grissom?"

"Yes."

The man extended his hand, shifting the clipboard under his arm. "Dr. Chris Dershem. We spoke on the phone." He glanced in Nick's direction. Nick extended his hand as Sara explained.

"Nick Stokes, friend of the family."

Sensing her unrest, and feeling no need to extend pleasantries at the time, Dr. Dershem pumped Nick's hand firmly once before re-directing his attention back to Sara and setting to business. "Betty's stable, as I told you earlier. She's experienced a stroke of the right brain. Her movement, as with most right brain strokes, has been affected on her left side. So far, movement appears sluggish but no paralysis appears to be onset right now."

"Thank God." Nick quietly offered, taking Sara's smaller hand in his.

"She's tired. She's weak and scared. Communication has been complicated, given her deafness and the effects of the stroke to her vision."

"Can...can she see at all?" Sara asked.

"Initially, we believe the stroke rendered her all but totally sightless. As some of the pressure on the brain has subsided and as the most recent round of scans have shown, it seems that the vision in her right eye is coming back. Most likely, she's seeing light and dark...shadows really. There's no indication that sight is coming back to her left eye yet. I don't want to get your hopes up, Mrs. Grissom..."

"Sara. Please, just call me Sara."

Dr. Dershem nodded, dispelling for the time being the strained note of Sara's voice at her rquest. "Right. As I was saying, Sara, I don't want to get your hopes up. While it's not uncommon for stroke patients to have their vision impacted, it's hard to say this early on how things are going to go. Now, I'm hopeful that given her reaction to the medicines we've gotten into her and the fact that she is regaining some vision, that this is a good sign that the visual impairment is temporary. However, only time will tell whether she'll regain full sight or not. It may be with one eye only...it's impossible to tell at this time. I am pleased that paralysis and her speech don't seem to be a problem."

"When can I go in?" Sara implored.

"The nurse is finishing with vitals and administering medication, but as soon as she comes out..."

As he spoke, the nurse poked her head out of the tiny room. "Dr. Dershem."

"Ah, good. Sara, you can go in."

Sara looked from the docter to Nick.

"He can go in, but try to keep it short. She needs reassurance and then rest." Dr. Dershem opened the door and gestured for the two to go inside. "I'll be back shortly. Sara," he paused. "You may want to give your husband a call. I'm sure it would be beneficial for her to have him here as well, if that's possible."

Sara nodded briskly and stepped into the room. She stopped, looking upon the tiny woman in the bed. Her mother- in- law was a small woman by nature but with the monitors and IV's hooked to her, she seemed frail and dwarfed by the bed. She heard the sliding door snick closed and Nick's reassuring hands come to her shoulders.

"I'll be right here, Sar."

Slowly, Sara made her way to the bed. She reached out with tentative fingers until they landed softly on her mother-in-law's hand. "Oh, Betty." she whispered.

Betty Grissom opened her eyes at the light touch. The room was dark and fuzzy but slowly came into respectable focus, as focused as her eyesight would allow, at least. It took some time, but she was finally able to make out the blurred face of her daughter-in-law, and smiled weakly. "Sara."

Sara turned her hand over and slowly signed into the palm. "I'm here. It's going to be okay."

As quickly and accurately as possible, Sara relayed the Docter's report by sign. Betty nodded periodically but her face gave away her unease. "Going to be blind?" she signed, tears springing up at the corners of her eyes and slipping down.

Sara bit her bottom lip, willing her own tears to stay back, as she wiped Betty's eyes. "We don't know yet. The Dr. says it's good that some vision is coming back but we have to give it time." Betty nodded again.

"Gilbert?" Betty signed.

Nick stepped up behind Sara. "You want me to call him, hun? Think it'd be a good idea,huh."

Betty turned her head, trying to see past Sara at the new figure.

"Nick's here, Betty. He's going to call Gil."

Betty reached out and Nick gave her tiny hand a gentle squeeze before he kissed Sara's cheek and whispered, "Be right back. Gonna give Greg a call too."

"Okay." Sara said, taking a seat by the bed. "Rest now." She signed. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Betty Grissom closed her eyes and sighed. Sara thought she'd gone to sleep, but minutes later, her fingers moved again. "Maybe Gilbert will come home and the two of you can fix this. I don't understand why he wants...he loves you. You are the best thing that ever happened to my, Gilbert." Betty made the sign for I love you and laid it on Sara's hand.

"I love you too." Sara whispered, no longer able to keep her tears at bay. "And I love him...so much."

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Grissom walked into his dimly lit tent, pulled the towel in his hand across his sweaty neck, and then tossed it onto the pile of dirty clothes in the corner. He sat down on his cot and guzzled half a bottle of water before stretching his muscles from his nightly workout. Six months ago, he'd started to utilize the makeshift weight room his fellow colleagues had fashioned. It wasn't much, but between a better diet, specifically honed weight training and daily runs, Gilbert Grissom had lost weight, toned up and bulked out. He was in the best shape of his life and planned to keep it that way. His eyes examined his muscled biceps and forearms, a memory of Sara's hands caressing his forearms causing him to close his eyes. "_Love your forearms. So sexy_." she'd whispered in the darkness of their bedroom, content and snuggled against his side after a healthy round of love making. "_Glad they're to your liking, my dear_." he'd grumbled, nuzzling her neck and nipping softly, pulling a giggle from her that quickly turned to a groan as his mouth traveled up and behind her ear to the place he knew drove her crazy. It had been short minutes later that she'd rolled back on top of him, sinking down over his hardened length as they began their dance all over again.

Grissom snapped his eyes back open with a curse. This was doing him no good. He'd made his decision. It could only be this way. There was no sense in torturing himself. He'd love her until he drew his last breath, he knew that, but his days as a married man...Sara's husband, were quickly drawing to a close.

His head dropped into his hands, losing the battle to fight the memories. If the only time he'd ever be with her again was in his mind, then he'd take what he could get. Just as he was about to lie back and let himself drift into happier times, his eyes caught the blinking red light on his phone, indicating a voicemail. With a groan, he reached out and grabbed it, flipping it open and viewing the missed call log. _Nick_? _What was Nick doing calling him_? He heart began to thunder in his chest, praying that Sara was alright. He cursed when his large thumbs fumbled the passcode that would gain him access to his voicemail. He sighed with temporary relief when he got it right on the second attempt. With bated breath he listened to the pre-recorded message ramble through the obligatory, "You have one unheard message."

_"Grissom, it's Nick. I'm at Desert Palms with Sara. Your mother had a stroke. If you can pull yourself away from your damn bugs, I suggest you get your ass home and take care of at least one of the women in your life who's supposed to mean something to you!"_

If Grissom hadn't been so scared or so busy throwing clothes into his duffle bag, it might have occured to him that Nick had never spoken to him that way before. But it would only be on the long plane ride back to Vegas that his former protege's words and their full meaning would sink in, making him feel even less like a man then he already felt.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, etc. I hope you all continue to enjoy and that I do justice to the couple and their long journey with my writing...besides, I refuse to accept that they're over. *waggles finger* Psst, the line for denial starts over there, I think. Ah, also, I know that Betty's speech would be impaired by her deafness but I'm at a loss as to how to convey that in the writing so I'm just going to write her speaking moments as I would a hearing character. Again, I own nothing and all mistakes are my own. Going with a strong T to M rating for this chapter, I like to go better safe then sorry, so if you're under 18, please don't read. So here's chapter 2.

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He stepped off the plane and nearly stumbled. Between the long flight, lack of sleep, the nearly ten hours since he'd had a decent meal, no, he did not count the on flight meal as decent, and the migraine, Gilbert Grissom felt like hell. And he had only harder moments to look forward too. He had no idea how his mother was. He had no desire to contact Nick, who was very obviously pissed at him. And on top of it all, he would have to see Sara. He had to look into those puppy chocolate eyes without letting himself get lost in her...her eyes, her scent, the sexy rasp of her voice, the body he felt sure God himself had fashioned to fit so perfectly with his.

He wasn't ready. Seven and a half, almost eight months since he'd seen her...since "the incident". He shook his head, instantly regretting the move as his head throbbed even more relentlessly and stars appeared before his eyes. He steadied himself with a hand against the wall, mentally chastising himself for thinking about "it". He had to keep a clear head, had to stay focused. It was the only way he was going to get through this. His mother needed him.

He spared a few minutes in the mens room to splash some water on his face before stepping outside into the bustle of Las Vegas. Cars, car horns, excited conversations and yells...he was home.

"Well, if you didn't already look like shit on a stick, I'd belt your stupid ass."

The rough Jersey accent brought a smile to his lips despite the harshness of the words. Grissom turned tired, blue eyes on his old friend. "How did you know when I'd get in. I didn't call anyone to tell them."

"Yeah, and we'll discuss that later too. Been out of the game so long you forget what tracking is, Grissom? I had a hunch, no, more like a hope that your stubborn ass would get on a plane, at least for your mother." Brass paused, and right or wrong, was glad to see the cringe that marred his already exhausted looking friend's face. "_Good. Stupid son of a bitch should feel like crap about it_." he thought. "So I double checked with Nicky to make sure your number was the same, gave the info to Archie and told him to let me know the minute you got in range. It was easy once you were a blip on the radar again. Not many flights originating from Timbuktu coming in at this hour."

Grissom simply nodded, opening the door and getting in.

Brass followed, buckling up and starting the SUV. "You gonna get your prescription for the migraine pills filled while you're here?"

"Planned on it."

" 'Roids are gonna be harder to come by, legally speaking." Brass commented, giving Grissom a once over. "What's with the Lou Ferrigno impression anyway?"

Grissom grunted. "Hardly Lou Ferrigno, and I just decided to take better care of myself is all. I have a naturally big body structure."

"Taking care of yourself is popping a multi-vitamin and eating lots of leafy greens, not sculpting the body of a guy half your age." Brass grunted back. His eyes cut to Grissom accusingly when a thought he wished he didn't have crossed his mind. "Hey. You're not...cheating on Sara?"

Grissom's head snapped around. "No! And Sara and I are..."

"Not yet, your not. Last I heard, you're still officially Mrs. Sara Sidle."

"And last I heard," Grissom ground out, "I wasn't the one caught on film kissing someone other then their spouse."

"Kissing. Kissing being the key word. And last I knew, middle aged men don't go around pumping up just to pucker up."

"Jim, I am not cheating on Sara. Can we drop this please? How's my mother?" he changed tacks.

"Stable. Her eyesight was affected..."

"What?! How much?!" The loss of another sensory organ had to be terrifying, especially to a woman his mother's age.

"From what Nick's told us, there was total vision loss at first. Pressure let off and the right eye is coming back. She's about half back to normal sight in that eye. Virtually nothing happening yet with the left."

Grissom squeezed his eyes shut, the guilt and fear threatening to bubble over the surface.

"Doc said it may still come back but only time will tell. No paralysis or speech impediment. Overall, considering what could have been..."

"She's lucky." Grissom finished, somewhat bitterly. "She's already deaf, what's a little sight loss. I should have been here."

"Yeah," Brass said candidly. "Yeah, you shoulda...for more reasons then just this."

Grissom closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Jim was right but, he couldn't...he just couldn't. It was better this way. This was the only way. He just had to keep telling himself that.

The rest of the ride to Desert Palms was silent.

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The elevator doors slid open and Grissom stepped out, feeling a hand catch his arm, he stopped and turned to Brass questiongly.

"Not that I'm not royaly pissed at how you're doin' Cookie, but...you ready for this?"

Grissom sighed heavily. "What choice do I have, Jim?"

The detective nodded. "Oh, and not that you deserve it, but fair warning; Nick is pissed."

Grissom's lips tightened. "Yes. I got that, thank you."

As they began to walk toward Betty's room, Brass continued in a falsely light manner, "And so is Greg and Mandy and Henry...Hodges is still your faithful little bitch, but I think even Judy would like to see your balls in a..."

"Yes, Jim! I get it! The entire lab hates me." he snapped.

"Well, maybe not everyone. Like I said, Hodges still loves you."

Having reached the door to her room, Grissom took a steady breath and opened the door. His eyes first landed on his mother. She was hooked to monitors and several bags of fluids hung from a pole, slowly dripping their restorative powers down the long, clear line of the IV and into her delicate hand. Grissom's heart ached. How easily could he have lost her. Sensing eyes on him, his gaze shifted and landed squarely on Nick Stokes.

Hard, angry brown eyes borred into his. Nick's jaw was clenched and his face tense, leaving the older scientist with no doubt that the Texan wanted very badly to let him have it with both barrels. But he also knew that, being the gentleman that he was, Nick wouldn't do so in mixed company or in so public a venue, and for that, Grissom was truely thankful. It was at that moment, that his eyes finally took in his wife's sleeping form.

She was curled into the impossibly small space left on the couch by Nick's side. Her head rested on his thigh and now, Grissom's jaw tensed in instant jealousy. He banished the thought. Now was not the time nor was it the place. Just as quickly as the jealousy came, it was followed by feelings of tenderness and longing. How beautiful she looked, despite the dark circles under her eyes. His angel. He wanted so badly to bend, touch his lips to hers and wake her with all the love he felt in his heart.

He was jarred from these thoughts at Nick's quiet but strained voice. "She's exhausted. Been here since yesterday afternoon. This is the first she's slept." Nick looked over to Betty's sleeping form. "They're both exhausted...but _we're_ taking care of them." His meaning was not lost on the older man.

"Thank you." Grissom whispered. "For calling and for..." Grissom gestured to Sara and his mother. "All of it, Nick. I appreciate it more than you could know."

"Didn't do it for you. She's been through enough. They both have."

Grissom could do nothing but nod.

Brass stepped further into the room drawing the mens attention from each other. "How's she doing?" he asked. "Any updates?"

"Docter says as long as she holds steady with improvement and has someone to stay with her, she may be able to go home tomorrow."

Grissom looked back at his mother. "Any more improvement with her eyesight?"

"The right eye is back to 80%. Doc wants her to rest it as much as possible. No change in the left yet." Nick reported.

Sara stirred and Nick's hand tightened on her shoulder, rubbing gently as she continued to wake. Grissom's eyes followed the movement, jealousy rearing its ugly head once more.

"Hey, sunshine." Nick spoke softly as Sara's eyes slowly blinked awake. "You with us?"

Grissom's breath caught in his chest at the first look into the eyes he loved to the very bottom of his soul.

"Mmmn." came her sleepy reply, her eyes closing again briefly. "How long was I out?"

"Not long enough." he lightly scolded.

"Yes, da..." her voice froze in her throat when her eyes finally landed on her husband.

He watched the myriad of emotions flash through her eyes and barely managed a softly spoken, "Sara" past his suddenly bone dry lips.

"Gil?"

His name, so soft on her lips stilled his heart and at the same moment, just as she'd always had the power to do, caused it to race in his chest at an alarming rate. He couldn't move; couldn't speak. All he could do was stare at her and beg his traitorous body not to give in to the longing to lift her into his arms and never, ever let her go.

Brass cleared his throat, watching the intense exchange between his friends. "Nicky, why don't you and I go grab what passes for coffee around here? Think we could all use the fuel."

Nick seemed unsure, glancing at Sara, who was now sitting up. She broke her gaze with Grissom to smile reassuringly at Nick. "Make mine strong, kay?"

Nick leaned in and kissed her temple. "One cup of roofing tar coming right up." He looked meaningfully at Grissom, whose eyes blazed cold for a brief moment, giving the Texan a short feeling of smug satisfaction, brefore coming back to hers. "You call if you need _anything_ in the meantime."

"I'll be fine." Sara assured him, knowing full well what "anything" really meant. Sara watched the two men, one like a brother, the other the closest thing to a father she had, make their way through the door. She needed that short amount of time to prepare herself. It wasn't enough. She longed to take a deep breath but refused to let him see, if that was possible, how much his simple presence was affecting her.

After a brief moment stareing at the closed door, Sara let her eyes come back to the love of her life. The dramatic change to his appearence finally registering to her tired mind. She took him in. Semi-loose fitting jeans couldn't hide the muscled thighs beneath them. His waist was more trim, as was the rest of him, coming to a more definitive V at his hips then in years past. She'd always loved his body, big and strong, he'd taken good care of himself through his life and she appreciated it in more ways then one. But this was a change any woman could appreciate. A back polo, tucked in, gave away the clear definition of a hardened chest. Her mind immediately conjured memories of her hand, trailing through the sparse chest hair as they lay together in their bed and she felt a rush of warmth gather between her legs. Damn him! His shoulders appeared even more broad and then her eyes landed on his arms, one of her greatest weaknesses. His biceps were bigger, stretching the material of the short sleeves around their bulk. Her heart tripped in her chest when his forearms flexed slightly, calling her attention to them.

Grissom felt his chest puff with masculine pride at the blatant desire he watched flash briefly in his wife's eyes. But it disappeared just as quickly when she schooled her features into a more neutral zone. Her eyes finally rose to meet his, he watched her take in the slimmer face and neatly trimmed beard he knew she loved...and he waited.

"You're...looking well." she tentatively offered.

"Thank you. As are you."

"Gilbert?" came softly from the bed behind them, taking their attention from each other and focusing on the tiny woman who was the reason they stood in the same room after so many months apart.

Gil turned, plastering a warm smile on his face. He stepped to her bedside and took her hand in his. It dwarfed hers, as it had for many years now, but it occured to Grissom, in that moment, that it somehow felt smaller right now then it ever had before. He made sure that he kept his signing hand close to her good eye and signed, "Hello, mom. I came as quickly as I could."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay in posting. I found myself hitting a bit of a writing block, as I thought out how I want this to happen. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, favorited, etc. I have another GSR fic in my head, which has been there for some time now, but want to get at least one of my current fics finished before I begin another. Or at least before I begin posting. I will offer a spoiler, however, just to gage interest. So if this new idea appeals to you, please drop me a thought in the review. The story would be AU; a different twist on how Grissom and Sara first met and how their relationship developed. There would also be a less of an age difference. If memory serves me corrctly, they are fifteen years apart in age. In this fic, there would only be an eight year age difference.

Italicized, bold type will indicate sentences that are only being signed and not spoken as well.

And now, Chapter 3.

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Mother and son "talked" for awhile. She asking after his health, causing him to grunt a laugh considering the reason he was sitting beside her. She in turn gave him a swat to the arm, which was a nice segway into asking him about his rather dramatic physical change. Grissom couldn't help the slight pout that accompanied his question, signing and swiveling without thought toward his wife who stood on the other side of the hospital bed and just behind to give mother and son an added sense of privacy.

"Was I such a sloth before that I lose some weight, build some muscle and shock the world with my appearence?"

Before either woman could respond, the sound of the door opening called their attention elsewhere.

A large bouquet of flowers, complete with arms and legs strolled in. Sara smiled, recognizing the black and green converse immediately, even before the disembodied voice began to speak.

"Hey Sar, they said Mama G was resting but that she could have visitors so I stopped and got these beauties for her. I also picked up some food for you and Nick, but it's at the nurses station cause I got up here but then almost dropped the food..."

Greg made his way in and set the flowers down as he talked, unbeknownst to him that Grissom was in the room. Grissom, in turn, was smiling and had signed to his mother that Greg was here with flowers for her. The scientist almost laughed at the way Greg was still Greg; going a mile a minute.

"They promised not to eat it but I have to get back out there before the wonderful aroma...", hands free and now with a clear view of the room, Greg's ramble halted mid-sentence when he saw Grissom. "Holy..."

"Greg!" Sara cut him off quickly.

In his natural whirling durbish fashion, Greg improvised with a grin. "...workout tapes by Fonda, Grissom."

He rolled his eyes. "Hello Greg. Yes, I've lost some weight. And yes, I've been working out. Thank you for noticing. No, I have not done anything differently with my hair but apparently I was two steps away from being named Mr. Over Fifety and Frumpy." He finished with a smile that was none to genuine, relaying the fact that this was not the first comment on his appearence but he hoped it might be the last.

"Oh, and here I thought you were a shoe in for Mr. Blind as a Bat and More Stupid than A Rock."

"Greg!" Sara slipped around the end of the bed and grabbed Greg forcefully by the arm, dragging him out of the room.

Grissom heaved a sigh and turned back to Betty, who was trying to decipher what exactly was going on. Her eyesight was well enough now that she could distinguish Sara and Greg's rapid exit, but not enough to read their lips or facial expressions.

_**"Are they alright?" **_

_**"Yes, but I am not very popular at the moment with the men in Sara's life."**_

Betty closed her eyes for a moment, only opening them when she felt the soft but firm grasp of her son's hand on her arm.

_**"Mom? Are you alright?"**_

_**"My heart hurts..."**_

Grissom shot to his feet, but as he turned to flee the room for assistance, he too felt a firm hand on his arm. He turned back swiftly to meet his mother's watery eyes.

_**"...for you." **_she signed.

Puzzled, he once more took his seat at her side.

_**"I'm fine, mom."**_

_**"Lying to your mother in her hospital bed, Gilbert?" **_She clucked her tongue. _**"You're ending your marriage to the woman you love and expect me to believe that you're fine. I'm old Gilbert. And I may be half blind and still fully deaf but even I know you're not fine. Far from it. The only thing I don't know is why. Why would you seek to end your marriage. We both know you're still as in love with, if not more so, with Sara as you've ever been."**_

_**"Mom..."**_

_**"No. No one looks at a woman, as I've seen you look at Sara in the past, and then lets something like time and distance take that away...without a fight to hold on to it. Where is your fight, son? Why are you letting go of the best thing that's ever happened to you?"**_

_**"This is the first time you've ever seen us together. How do you know how I look at her?" **_he asked, trying to deflect the reasons why.

_**"The computer. I have skyped with Sara a few times, as I know you recall."**_

_**"That...that's been almost ten months."**_

_**"Ah. So you've fallen out of love in ten months? Well over a decade to build but so easily lost? So, you're telling me you no longer love your wife and that's why you want a divorce?"**_

He could no sooner lie to her than strike her. _**"No. That's not what I'm saying. Loving Sara is not the problem."**_

_**"Then fix the problem, Gilbert. For better or worse. Those are the vows you took. The promise you made to the woman you love." **_When he failed to respond, Betty reached out, tipping his chin to meet her faulty gaze. _**"From the day I knew and through this very moment, beyond this moment and to the day I draw my last breath, I have loved and will love your father. Not even death could stop that. I would give anything in this world, but you, to have one more day with him. Don't waste one minute without the one you love." **_Tears quickly formed and spilled from her eyes. _**"Time is no one's friend and the one you love can be taken in the blink of an eye. My son is too intelligent a man to squander so precious a gift."**_

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"What are you doing?!"

Greg blinked.

"I don't need this right now, Greg!"

"Sar, I'm sorry, but how do you expect me to react? He hurt you. No explanation, just one day I love you til death do us part and the next he wants a divorce in the name of your best interests."

Sara closed her eyes and took a breath. "I know you're just trying to protect me, but you can't. It is what it is, Greg, and yes, it hurts, but you hurling insults at him is not going to help. Betty's lying in there, none of us sure if she's going to get her eyesight back the way it was, he's scared...I'm scared, and I can't deal with the behind the scenes drama right now. Please...just don't."

He could have kicked himself. "You're right. M' sorry, Sara."

She turned tired but caring eyes upon her friend. "I know, Greggo. But try to remember, he loves you guys too. Whatever his reason for...doing this, that hasn't changed."

The sound of footsteps approaching caught their attention and they looked up to find Jim and Nick walking toward them, coffee's in hand. Jim carried a brown sack as well.

"Nurses stopped us on the way. Said some skinny guy with goofy hair dropped this off for you." Jim smiled, nodding at Greg.

Sara took the bag, and coffee. "Guys, I really appreciate all of you being here, but I think Grissom needs some time with his mom and...I need to be here for the two of them."

"Sara..." Nick began, the concern evident on his face.

"One of those for the Bugman, Nicky?"

He shook his head. Clearly Sara knew what he was going to say and made it obvious she'd made her decision. He held out a cup. "My mama raised me right."

She kissed his cheek affectionately. "I know she did."

"You call..."

"If I need anything, I know and I will. Now, my knights are dismissed."

Sara walked back into the room as Nick, Greg and Jim made their way back toward the elevators.

"Crap!" Jim hissed. "Hold the elevator for me. Be right back."

He poked his head around the corner of the door. "Hey, sorry." Three heads turned at his voice. Jim cleared his throat. "Grissom, your bag's still in my car. Where, um...do I need to leave it?"

Grissom cursed himself. He hadn't thought that far ahead. His mind had been too pre-occupied with getting to his mother and seeing Sara. He had no hotel reservations and his only other viable option was...

"Leave it in my locker, Jim. We'll pick it up on our way home."

Grissom's eyes locked with Sara's, shocked that she would make the decision so easily. _Home._

TBC...


End file.
